


Feeling

by madmeridian



Category: Death Note & Related Fandoms, Death Note (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Alive Matt | Mail Jeevas, Alive Mello | Mihael Keehl, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Developing Relationship, Hanahaki Disease, It’s super minor but I wanted to tag it just in case, M/M, There is a small reference to someone possibly being suicidal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-09
Updated: 2020-09-09
Packaged: 2021-03-07 01:14:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,037
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26368531
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/madmeridian/pseuds/madmeridian
Summary: Near has always been a being of cold, hard logic. Everyone, including himself, has believed this without question.When he starts coughing up petals, he begins to realize that it’s not completely true.
Relationships: Mello | Mihael Keehl/Near | Nate River
Comments: 33
Kudos: 101
Collections: Meronia Hanahaki Fics





	Feeling

**Author's Note:**

> I haven’t read many hanahaki disease fics so I might’ve fucked some things up. I did kinda tweak the conditions as to how the person with it can end it (instead of when the love is returned, it’s when the person they love realizes they return it). That might be a bad explanation but you’ll get it when you read it. Also, it’s sort of implied that Hanahaki Disease is rare but known well enough in this au. 
> 
> Not Beta’d
> 
> Enjoy reading!

Near is a being of cold, hard logic. 

At least, that’s what he’s always told himself. The other orphans at Wammy’s whispered it too, thinking he could not hear them. He has never been emotional, or passionate, or warm. It had been such as long as he could remember, even before his arrival at Wammy’s so long ago. 

Unlike most of the other children, who merely whispered behind his back, Mello had often called him a robot or an android to his face. Mello had called him many things back then, only occasionally silenced by Matt elbowing him and whispering for him to stop being a dick. 

Near pretended that he didn’t hear Mello most of the time. He was secretly grateful for Matt’s quiet defense of him. It hurt him to listen to Mello insulting him, telling him he had no emotions. 

Not that he would ever admit it hurt him. He told himself the same. He was cold. Logical. Unfeeling. 

Simply put, he could not feel hurt. 

That was the reminder he gave himself when Mello refused to work with him upon hearing of L’s death. Mello would never cooperate with him. It was the way the world worked, the way Mello worked. 

He could not feel hurt. 

That was what he told himself when Mello came to the SPK headquarters, vivid burn scar and wild blond hair and angry cobalt eyes. Near did not turn around, did not look at Mello. Mello shouted at him and pointed a gun at him. He did give some information, a small peace offering for the picture. Then he left. 

He lied to himself when he reviewed the footage of Mello entering the building. He told himself it was simply to see if he could garner further information from Mello’s appearance, not so that he could look at the man one more time because he had been too cowardly earlier. 

He. Could. Not. Feel. Hurt. 

Near began to question this theory’s validity after viewing the footage of Mello’s presumed death. Of course, he did not believe for a second that Mello was truly dead. Not until a body was found.

And if there was no body, no remains, he would have to begin to search for Mello. Though it was unlikely that Near would be able to pinpoint his precise location unless Mello allowed it. But so close to his confrontation with Yagami, he would like to know where a potential wild card would be.

The last thing he needed was Mello showing up at the warehouse to pull a stunt and make sure that everyone knew that he was very much alive. 

Near let out a small cough due to a small irritation in his throat, as if something was stuck in it. An odd feeling in his chest had begun to bother him these past weeks, but he had ignored it. It wasn’t particularly worrying to him. Stress, or perhaps a small cold. He didn’t have a wonderful track record of health, so it was not unusual for him to feel unwell from time to time. 

But then he began to cough and cough and cough. It hurt his chest and it was coming clear that there was _something_ actually stuck in his throat. It burned as it passed up. By the time he finally coughed it out, Rester had come to hover close behind him in concern, having asked him if he was alright several times now with no answer. 

He finally was able to spit out whatever it was. It was small and strange. Near couldn’t quite tell what it was, covered in spit and curled up. He wiped it gently and tried to unfurl it. 

“Jesus,” Rester muttered behind him, looking at the small object.

A small, orange petal. 

Near was familiar with Hanahaki Disease. _Rare. Tragic. Impossible, at least for myself to have._

Those several thoughts ran through his head, but, as usual, logic won out. The petal in his palm was unassuming, small, pretty. A clear sign of the plant growing in his chest. The procedure would not be too complicated, though he would be on bed rest for a bit. Tedious, but necessary. 

“Contact a doctor to deal with this,” Near ordered, his voice still hoarse from his coughing fit.

“Alright,” Rester said softly, a comforting hand on his shoulder. “If you’re sure.” 

“It must be removed,” Near said, shrugging it off. “It’s of no consequence if the surgery is performed quickly.”

Rester opened his mouth to speak, likely to say something disapproving by the look on his face. However, Near was in no mood to entertain the man and listen to him express his doubts of Near’s plans. 

Instead, he turned back to his screens. Everything was going well. The real notebook’s location was revealed. 

Except Mello and Matt might be dead.

_Mello could be dead._

The thought sent another coughing fit to rack his body. He spat up another tiny petal and set it with the other one. The orange of them was vibrant, yet soft. He stared down at them. 

Hanahaki Disease was a result of one-sided love. Near was not a loving person. It was a mistake. 

The petals seemed to stare back at him, taunting. There were no mistakes with Hanahaki Disease. He loved someone and they did not love him. 

Unsurprising. Near was not easy to love. 

He turned his attention away from the blasted petals. The plants would soon be removed, and the affection for whatever unfortunate soul he loved with it. Near did not linger on who it could possibly be. The list was short, but no options made sense. 

It was of no importance. He had work to focus on. 

Rester managed to secure him a doctor quickly. It would be removed after he confronted Kira at the warehouse. Efficient, fast, easy. Nothing to worry about. The man still seemed to want to say something, but wisely did not try to distract Near from his work. There were many things to do before they went to the warehouse. 

Near was surprised when Mello and Matt stayed silent as he went to confront Kira. They did not show at the warehouse, thank goodness, nor did they make any other sort of peep. 

Near hacked up three petals during the ordeal, his eyes beginning to tear. No one said anything while he did, watching as he practically choked them out. Luckily, he hadn’t during his final conversation with Light Yagami, keeping himself strong and steady as the man broke down. 

They’d won. He briefly thought to himself that ‘they’ was more than the SPK, but quickly suppressed it. 

Mello and Matt appeared on his doorstep the week after. The rest of the SPK members were surprised, but, as usual, he was not. When they entered, Near didn’t turn around, listening to their heavy boots thump against the floor. They stopped a short distance away.

“You’re welcome,” Mello said venomously.

“Yagami is dead. It’s over.” 

It was all Near could say. What else was he supposed to? If he tried to reprimand the two older boys for their plan he was likely to get a bullet in his brain. If he tried to express that he was happy that neither were dead, no one would take it seriously.

And why should they?

“I’m not hearing a thank you,” Mello spat. 

“...thank you,” Near said reluctantly. 

He was grateful for Mello’s help, for him showing some willingness to work with him at least for once. But he didn’t want to come off as patronizing. Knowing Mello, regardless of what he said would be seen as such. 

“Was that so hard?” 

Near did not respond. 

“Bastard,” Mello muttered, kicking his chair a little.

“There are rooms available,” Near offered tentatively.

“Why the hell would you think that we would stay with you?” 

“You showed me where the real notebook was.” 

“That doesn’t mean I want to work with you, dumbass. I was proving what a fucking idiot you were.” Mello had gotten closer. Near could feel Rester and Lidner hovering closer too, clearly nervous that Mello would point a gun at his head this time. Maybe shoot this time, too.

“I apologize for assuming,” Near murmured. “Please, feel free to return to your woefully under-equipped little flat.”

“What is this?” Mello was snarling in his ear, but not in response to his jab. No, his long, calloused fingers were reaching for the orange petals. Shaking, too, which Near had never seen Mello do before.

“Flower petals,” Near said, hoping that Mello’s mind would not jump to Hanahaki Disease. He was shocked to see a mix of emotions pass over Mello’s face. Grief, a sort of melancholy Near didn’t think Mello was capable of, before rage took it over again. 

“You’re such a prick.” Mello stomped out without giving a reason. Near frowned a tiny bit. He had hoped to actually have a conversation with Mello, but some things never changed. 

“What did I do this time?” Near asked Matt. Matt shrugged and shuffled forward to look over Near’s shoulder. Near had always appreciated Matt’s casual demeanor. It had been a long time since they’d seen each other, but neither of them minded simply resuming their acquaintance. 

“What, are they snapdragons? Something to do with his past, before Wammy’s, I think. I don’t really remember,” Matt said flippantly. “I should go after him.” 

“Yes. Thank you, Matt.” Matt made a noncommittal noise and waved, waltzing towards the door.

“Near,” Rester began as soon as Matt left. Near interrupted before he could get anything out. 

“Notify the doctor that it will not be a surgery. Only a check up,” Near heard himself say. He wasn’t sure why he did it.

Somewhere in his head he’d known that it was Mello. It was always Mello. The man who’d always seen him as a rival. Near had never really thought that Mello was his rival, but the half of himself that he was missing. They clicked like a puzzle when Mello allowed him. 

But it was rare that Mello would willingly work with him. It wasn’t worthwhile to get caught up in emotions for someone who was practically a lost cause at this point. 

All he had to do was rid himself of the sickness growing in his lungs. A disgusting plant symbolizing the torment he’d faced over the years, knowing that he cared for someone that would never care for him back. 

Of course, his emotions had clearly grown more serious over the years. Love was not something Near entertained easily or took for granted. 

He could destroy it easily. Be done with these useless feelings for someone he didn’t think was capable of loving him. 

But now that it was basically confirmed that Mello was the one, he had his doubts. 

The next day, he met his doctor, a severe woman who told him he probably had about four months to live, as a result of his already lackluster health record. His condition had been dormant for a while apparently, but was now flourishing quickly. Only four months. Perhaps less. He needed surgery soon if he wanted it. 

Near chose not to. Operating on emotion for what felt like the first time in his life. 

It was… terrifying. Yet, strangely liberating. 

Near was not one for pettiness, but he felt vaguely satisfied that he was proving himself, the other children, and Mello wrong. He could feel hurt and pain. It was all he felt right now, but it was better than the numbness he had been stuck with recently. 

Two days after he saw the doctor, Near asked Lidner to call Mello to the headquarters. He looked at Mello this time. His full, undivided attention, no toys or cards or dice. Nothing to distract himself this time. 

Mello was unaware of the change, storming in the way he always did. 

“What do you want?” 

“I have a question for you,” Near stated, pushing over a computer chair for Mello to sit in.

As expected, Mello did not take it. He stood there and tapped his foot. Usually it was a reminder that Mello could stomp on his toys or knock over one of his methodical building projects. He briefly watched as it slowed when Mello realized there was nothing to knock over.

“Yeah?” 

“If I were to die, would you take over as L?” Near asked bluntly. Mello blanched, clearly shocked. 

“Why are you asking?” Mello’s voice lost its usual heat for a moment, instead filled with suspicion. 

“I need to know,” Near admitted. “I don’t think I’ll live very long.” Mello paused for a long minute, giving Near a strangely hard, serious look. Near felt panic in his chest, thinking that maybe Mello was seeing through him, figuring out what was truly going on. Then he sighed loudly.

“Honestly, I don’t think I will either,” Mello said, slowly taking the seat Near had offered earlier. “Why do you think you’re going to die? You aren’t nearly as careless as I am.” 

“I will be dying soon,” Near said dryly. “It’s inevitable.”

“Are you…?” Mello waved his hand awkwardly, frowning. 

He didn’t seem to be able to articulate whatever he was asking. Near couldn’t fathom what it was. 

“Am I what?” 

“Do you need to talk to someone?” Mello waved his hand flippantly again, giving him an odd stare as if he were _concerned_. “Like a professional or something?”

_Oh. Not quite what I meant._

“It’s not like that. I don’t want to die.” 

“Then why do you think you’re going to die?”

“I just know I am. I’ve come to terms with it but I needed to ensure that you would carry on L’s work. I assumed you would.” Near gave Mello a rare, thin smile. 

“You’re fucked up or something,” Mello said, looking him up and down. “Are you on drugs? Drunk?”

Near was about to respond, but he was hit with another coughing attack. He turned away from Mello, wheezing and choking. Mello’s hands were on his shoulders, but he ignored them. Tears were gathering at the corners of his eyes. Near had never felt so defeated.

He was careful to make sure that Mello didn’t see the small flower that he deposited from his mouth into a tightly clenched hand. 

“You’re sick,” Mello stated. “What is it?” 

“It’s nothing,” Near lied.

“You just choked up a lung. Nevermind, it’s not as if you’d fucking tell me. You should try to get to bed.” Near didn’t really remember being taken to his room, or how he got there. He felt so dizzy and the flower was still clutched in his hands.

Though Near did vaguely remember Mello’s low voice telling him to relax and sleep. 

The next morning he was alone in his room, the flower resting next to his open palm. He threw it away. 

The conversation they had was enough. Mello had not said no to taking L’s title. At that point, it was settled to Near. He could not bring himself to get rid of his feelings and he was content if this was to be his death. At the very least, he could rest easy knowing that he was leaving his work with someone he loved. 

He was surprised when Mello visited again two days later, after it was dark out. 

“I didn’t call you again,” Near commented blankly when Mello let himself in, cursing about the thunderstorm going on outside.

“I don’t need you to call me,” Mello shot back. “You need some rest and clearly you aren’t getting it.”

“I don’t remember asking you what I needed.” 

“Don’t be so stubborn.” 

“That’s rich, coming from you of all people.” 

“I’m trying to be nice,” Mello growled. “Something is wrong with you.” 

“Since when do you care about me?” Near was surprised at the amount of bitterness in his voice. 

Mello began to sputter something before simply grabbing his arm and dragging him to his bedroom again. Near did not protest. 

It continued like this for a month. Near spat up more and more petals. Mello came by every other day for a while, and then every day as Near’s condition worsened, to make sure he slept and ate and took care of himself. Matt came along too sometimes. Near thought that maybe Matt knew, judging by the oddly soft looks he gave whenever he was around. 

It comforted Near to know that Mello was also slowly warming up to the SPK members too. He would need them for when Near died and he took on L’s role. They were trustworthy. 

Rester begged him to just get the surgery several times. Near refused every time. The doctor warned him he didn’t have much time. 

Two months after he coughed up the first petal saw him bedridden and hooked up to machines. He was coughing up full flowers now. Whole clusters of snapdragons, orange mixed with the red of the blood that came up with them. The doctor told him that he had less time than she estimated. 

Mello had been gone for a week, absent on some sort of case of his own. Near knew that his employees had forewarned him about his increasingly worsening state. When Mello had gone, Near was still up and around, but now he rarely left his bed. 

Mello had a strangely soft look in his eye as he came in again. Near could not remember a time when Mello was quiet, but the man said nothing when he slipped in. 

“Did your case go well?” Near cringed at his own voice, which swung between being a little hoarse to barely there at all. 

“Fine,” Mello said dismissively, coming to sit next to Near on the bed. “You’ve gotten worse.” 

“There’s no getting better,” Near coughed. 

“You can’t do this,” Mello said. “You can’t just die.” 

“I don’t have a choice.” Near felt like he should be crying, that he should be telling Mello what was going on. 

But he couldn’t.

“You’re lying to me.” Mello crossed his arms. “I know you too well, Near. You’re lying. Tell me the truth.” 

Near didn’t know why, but he had a sudden urge to reach out and twirl Mello’s hair, which would probably result in a punch to the face. He concluded that he didn’t have enough time left for hesitation and did it, wrapping some golden strands around his finger. 

“I can’t.” 

“The fuck you can’t.” Mello grabbed his wrist and stopped him from touching his soft, blond hair. Near instead reached out for his scarred cheek. Mello’s hand stayed on his arm, but did not stop him. He gently ran his fingers over Mello’s burn scar, tracing it. 

“I think you’ll make a great L,” Near said. “I hope you listen to Matt more though. He has a cooler temper than you.” 

“Stop talking like that,” Mello growled. “You aren’t dying.” 

Near could not remember ever crying before in his life. He knew the signs though. His lip was trembling and his eyes were itching with tears not quite formed yet. 

Instead of letting himself cry, he leaned against Mello’s side and clutched at his shirt. Mello froze for a moment. But then, Near felt arms wrap around his shoulders. 

“You aren’t dying,” Mello repeated. 

After, he ordered Lidner not to let Mello in anymore. Mello could not know. She had told him that Mello was raging around the rest of the building. Near felt bad for keeping him out and desperately wanted to let him in, so that he could see him one more time before he died. It would be comforting.

But Mello could not know that he would be the one killing Near. Ending their rivalry once and for all. 

Near was content to let Mello win this time. He had written a letter, telling Mello the truth of it all. Everything was set for the SPK to follow Mello’s lead, as well as Matt’s, as the next L. 

Of course, despite Near’s methodical planning, Mello decided to play his own way. After a week and a half of being told no, Mello somehow managed to push his way past the SPK members and into Near’s room. 

“You look like shit,” was the first thing Mello said to him. The gentleness from their last meeting was long gone, worn away by irritation and frustration. Near turned his head away, not responding. The game was up. 

He was aware he did not look well. His face was paler than usual, his chin slightly stained from all the blood he’d been coughing up. He hadn’t slept for long intervals, always being woken up by new snapdragons forcing their way out. 

“Can you talk?” Mello asked, sitting down on the edge of the bed. Near slowly shook his head. Mello’s eyes drifted over to Near’s bedside table. There was a pile of the flower bunches he’d coughed up. Near had stopped throwing them away. The trash can had begun to fill up too quickly with them. 

“Who is it, Near?” 

Near hummed and shook his head. Mello knew precisely who it was. 

“Near, you fucking asshole,” Mello said angrily. “Who is it?”

Near tapped his temple, trying to tell Mello to think it through. It was a miracle that Near had been able to keep it secret from him for this long. 

“Near, now isn’t the fucking time for games,” Mello hissed. “Who is it?”

Near was about to point to Mello, to finally make him understand, but he was shaking too much. Near’s chest and throat began to burn in a telltale way. A disgusting gurgling sound made its way out of his throat and he began to claw at his throat and mouth. 

He heard Mello shouting for someone vaguely. He was in too much pain to tell. 

The doctor had taken up permanent residence for the time being, to see Near through to the end. She burst in, ordering Near to help him get this one out. His chest heaved as he gagged and retched and forced the buds out of his lungs. His vision was all spotty and his head hurt so badly. Tears ran down his face as the flowers dropped into his hands, covered in blood and saliva. 

Mello was standing by the door, watching Near, horrified by what he’d just witnessed. The doctor leaned Near back, murmuring to him to try and sleep some more. 

“You,” Near croaked before he passed out. He saw Mello’s mouth move to say something, but his hearing fuzzed out. In fact, everything fuzzed out. 

He did not remember the next few days. The doctor had spoken to him kindly, softly several times, but he couldn’t tell what she was saying to him. Rester had come by too, as had Gevanni and Lidner. They all smiled down at him, a sort of melancholic softness in their eyes. 

He was dying, wasn’t he? 

The next thing he truly remembered was Matt and the doctor sitting by his side. He blinked at Matt with wide eyes. Of all people, what was he doing here? Near attempted to sit up.

“Don’t even think about sitting up, young man,” the doctor said sternly. “You’re still recovering.” 

“Recovering?” His voice sounded terrible and his words were barely intelligible.

“A miraculous one.” The doctor glanced over at Matt briefly. “The blond one is just outside. Don’t talk for a bit, okay? You’ve still got some flowers and bits of the plant in you, but it’s getting better” 

Near watched her smile, but her eyes were wrinkled with worry. She left the room after giving him a soft pat on the leg. His gaze shifted over to Matt, who was calmly playing on his game console. 

“You gave us a good scare, Near,” he said after a minute. “We all thought you were going to die. You looked like you were already dead when I first came in.” 

Near continued to stare at Matt. The only logical reason for his survival and recovery was that Mello had recognized that he loved Near back.

_Not possible. They must have removed the plant without my consent._

He jumped when the door slammed open. Mello stalking in slowly, furious.

“Why the _fuck_ didn’t you tell me sooner?”

Near blinked at him. His vision was still sort of spotty and his head was throbbing. Mello’s loud voice was hurting his ears. 

“Don’t shout,” Matt reminded him gently.

Mello huffed, but sat down in a chair on Near’s other side. Near wasn’t sure what he should do. Apologize? 

His eyes felt heavy and he felt the urge to yawn, though he knew it would hurt if he did. He’d only just woken up but he felt incredibly drowsy.

“No sleeping yet,” Mello said. He had brought in a bowl with him. “It’s just some broth. Come on, try to get some down.” 

Mello was able to get him to drink some of it before Near pushed it away, shaking his head. Mello didn’t force him to try anymore. Near was struggling to stay awake anyway 

“Go to sleep,” Mello ordered quietly. “You need some rest.” 

Near felt Mello’s warm hand slip into his cold one as he started to drift back off to sleep. 

The next time he woke up, he was alone with Mello. A hand was carding through his hair, pushing it back from his forehead. Near blinked and weakly pointed to the glass of water next to his bed. 

Mello silently helped him sit up and drink some water. He felt a little better than earlier. 

“You’re on bedrest while you recover,” Mello said. “I can’t believe you, you know. Seriously, why didn’t you tell me?”

“We both... would’ve won,” Near practically wheezed. 

“How the fuck would either of us have won?” Mello asked incredulously. He was looking at Near as if he was stupid, which Near knew for a fact he was not. 

“You… would’ve won L’s title. I would’ve pro... proved that I... have emotions.”

“You could’ve proved you have emotion by telling me about this in the first place,” Mello argued. “And it’s an empty victory for me if you die.”

“Did… did they remove it?”

“No.” 

_Oh._

Near was used to his brain running in a million different directions, spreading towards a billion possibilities. It had never stopped working like this before, only producing one singular exclamation. 

_Oh._

“Oh,” Near voiced, echoing his thoughts. 

“I’ve watched you deteriorate these past weeks,” Mello began. “I watched you get sick and almost die. Did you never once think that maybe I could return what you felt?” 

“No,” Near said automatically. It was the truth. He had never thought that Mello could possibly love him. Then again, he hadn’t thought Mello was capable of even caring for him, but he had come by so much while he had been sick. 

Maybe he’d miscalculated. 

“I… Jesus, Near.” Mello paused, then shook his head. He took Near’s hand against and pressed the knuckles against his lips. He stayed silent for a while, deep in thought.

Near was struck with several thoughts, the first of which being that he was not going to die. The second of which was that Mello did care about him. He’d stayed by his side and tried to take care of him. It was baffling and Near didn’t know what to do with the information. 

“The firs… first one came up after you… faked your death.” Mello looked up at Near, eyebrows raised. 

“The doctor said you shouldn’t talk, Near.” Near let out a small, frustrated breath. “I was worried about you after I came to your headquarters. You didn’t look well but I didn’t notice much because I was pissed about the snapdragons.”

Mello let out a short, bitter laugh, breathing against Near’s hand still. 

“I’m...sorry.” 

“Don’t be.” Mello ran his thumb over Near’s knuckles and sighed heavily. “I can’t say I blame you. It was stupid as hell. Like really fucking stupid of you to do-”

Near grunted, squeezing Mello’s hand to tell him to get on with it. 

“I can’t say I’ve been the best to you, okay? I actually have no clue why the fuck you would love me, I’ve always treated you like shit. I am definitely _not_ worth dying for.” 

“Not r… recently.”

“What?” 

Near huffed and mimed writing. It hurt to speak but he needed to. Mello groaned about having to go find a notebook but he did go and retrieve a pad of paper and a pen for Near. When he came back, he settled on the bed instead of the chair, making Near’s heart flutter a little with the closer proximity. 

**You haven’t treated me like shit recently.**

“After that first night you called me I was actually fucking worried you were going to drop dead or something. I never wanted you to die.” 

**You love me.**

“You’ve grown on me,” Mello grunted as an affirmative. “You’re a lot less annoying than when we were kids.” The corners of Mello’s lips nearly twitched into a smile, as if he were joking. It took Near a moment to realize that he actually was joking. 

**Are you going to stay?**

“Well, I don’t think I have a choice since you’re insisting on putting your life at risk. And I think your employees would track me down and force me to even if I said no.” 

Near let out a little amused wheeze. They were professional enough, but they had their moments. 

**They’re protective sometimes.**

“They have nothing to worry about.” 

Near leaned forward a little and Mello scooted closer so that he could wrap his arms around him. Near breathed out against Mello’s shoulder, revelling in the feeling. 

He was not going to die in the foreseeable future. Mello loved him back. 

Mello loved him. 

“I love you too,” Near coughed out. 

“I‘ve figured that out by now.”

Near reached out for the pad of paper and snagged it. 

**You really promise you’ll be here?**

“Promise.” Mello leaned forward and pressed a small kiss on Near’s lips. “I won’t leave you.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to the person (an anon on tumblr) who suggested this idea to me! I was shocked that I couldn’t find any meronia fics with Hanahaki Disease (pls let me know if there are any out there or even if you eventually write one, I would love to read it). 
> 
> I promise I am working on those side fics! I hit a bit of writer’s block with them and needed to take a small break (aka this fic). They will be out, I just needed a bit of time :)
> 
> Here’s my [tumblr](https://madmeridian.tumblr.com) if you wanna send suggestions or just shoot me a random ask or something idk. 
> 
> I appreciate any kudos or comments you leave! As usual, I will do my best to respond to all you lovely people who leave comments <3


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